


Naughty List

by grrriliketigers



Category: The Closer
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-07
Updated: 2014-07-07
Packaged: 2018-02-07 21:03:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1913733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grrriliketigers/pseuds/grrriliketigers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: One of them is Mrs. Claus</p>
            </blockquote>





	Naughty List

“I can’t do anymore paperwork tonight.” Brenda announced, leaning against the doorframe of Sharon’s office. 

Sharon smiled indulgently. “You don’t say?” 

“Wanna go get dinner and watch a movie at my house?” 

“I can’t.” Sharon beamed. “I’m Santa Claus tonight.” 

Brenda narrowed her eyes. “What does that mean exactly?”

Sharon laughed, “it means exactly what I said. I’m Santa Claus tonight. I have to run home, grab my suit and get over to Anaheim.” 

“You mean _Mrs. Claus_.” 

“ _No_ , dear. I mean _Santa_.” 

“You can’t be _Santa_.” Brenda protested. 

“Don’t be ridiculous. Of course I can.” 

Brenda folded her arms across her chest. 

“Why can’t I? Because I’m a woman?” 

“Well, yes!” 

Sharon snorted, “that’s rather sexist, isn’t it?” 

Brenda scoffed. “I’m not standin’ here sayin’ that a woman can’t be president or somethin’ _actually_ sexist. What about Jackson?”

“What about him?” Sharon grimaced. 

“You’re literally married to a fat guy with rosy cheeks whose beer belly shakes when he laughs.” Brenda walked further into the office. 

“I think we should at least wait until the tots hit puberty before we start actively trying to traumatize them.” Sharon set her pen down and leaned back in her chair. 

“Jackson sees them once or twice a year. I see them once or twice a week and do you really think that Jackson would make a better santa than me _just_ because of my gender?”

Brenda pursed her lips, well aware that there was no right answer to that question. 

Sharon smiled indulgently. “I’ve been Santa Claus since little Cole was born and I love being Santa Claus. The kids get so excited about Santa and we get their Christmas lists." 

“Do you wear the beard?” 

“Of course.” Sharon grinned. 

Brenda laughed, “I’m sure you look very cute.”

Sharon’s grin widened and she chuckled. “I do actually. I’ll show you a picture next time you’re at my place.” 

“I’ll hold you to that.” 

"So do you want to plan dinner and a movie tomorrow night?" 

Brenda smiled. "Yes."

"Anything but Dirty Dancing." 

Brenda gaped. "It's a classic!"

"So is Casablanca and I don't need see it more than once a year." Sharon protested. 

"Philistine." Brenda teased on her way out the door. 

**

Sharon stood in the elevator watching the numbers ascending. Her beard and Santa hat were in her oversized purse but she was looking forward to getting the rest of it off. She'd gotten stuck in traffic on the way home and was aware of just how long she'd been wearing the heavy suit. 

The doors slid open on the eleventh floor and Sharon shifted her purse on her shoulder and took one step off the elevator before skidding to a halt with a laugh. “Well, well, well. What do we have here?” 

“Surprise.” Brenda stuck her book into her bag and smiled up at Sharon. 

Sharon’s eyes roamed over Brenda’s form, starting with the black patent leather fuck-me pumps, nude fishnet stockings, skimpy skirt fringed with white fur, up over the skintight shirt and finally ending on the Santa hat perched on her blonde waves. 

“Just… _wow_... how long have you been sitting here?” 

“I don’t know. A while.” Brenda smirked, “I don’t know if you’re friendly with your neighbors or not but you might have to explain this at some point.”

“Oh honey, there’s no explanation for you.” Sharon teased, holding her hand out for Brenda. 

Brenda smiled and accepted the hand, maneuvering to stand up without flashing the empty hallway. “You got a santa hat in that bag?”

“Yes, I do.” 

Brenda squeezed Sharon’s arm as she unlocked the door to the apartment. “I thought you could use a Mrs. Claus.” 

“You read my mind.” Sharon purred, pushing her up against the door once she’d closed and locked it behind them. “I am dying in this suit.” 

“Well, then we better get you out of it and into bed.” Brenda grinned, slowly unbuttoning the flannel, fur-lined jacket. 

Sharon's hands slid over Brenda's bum and slipped underneath the tiny skirt. Brenda hummed and dropped her lips to Sharon's collarbone as she pushed the jacket off. 

Brenda palmed Sharon's breasts through the thin white camisole. Sharon arched her back, pushing her breasts harder into Brenda's hands, eager for more contact. Brenda brushed her thumbs over Sharon’s nipples and Sharon felt a jolt of arousal shoot through her core. 

“Brenda…” she murmured, her eyes fluttering shut in contentment. “I really need to get out of these pants...” 

Brenda let her hands roam down Sharon’s svelte form to the elastic waistband of the Santa pants and eased them down her hips, revealing a pair of heather gray boy shorts. Brenda teased Sharon’s sex through the undergarments and Sharon’s knees wobbled, eliciting a grin. Brenda let the pants drop the rest of the way and she took Sharon’s hand, leading her forward. 

Sharon’s Victorian-style lace-up boots stepped easily out of the wide legged pants. Brenda tugged her forward, towards the master bedroom and the large, plush queen bed. 

Brenda pushed Sharon onto the bed and Sharon propped herself up against the pillows and the blonde climbed over her. 

Brenda took off her hat and set it on Sharon’s head as she straddled her hips. “Well, aren’t you going to ask me what I want for Christmas?” 

Sharon grinned, her hands roaming first up Brenda’s bare bum and then along the curve of her back. She leaned up and whispered against Brenda’s lips. “What would you like for Christmas?”

“First, I want to be good and thoroughly fucked.” Brenda began as she splayed her fingers over Sharon’s abdomen under the cami. 

“And second?” Sharon batted her eyelashes. 

“A romantic weekend getaway to wine country.” 

Sharon grinned, “is that all?”

“And a pony.” Brenda finished with a completely straight face. 

“Obviously I’ll have to check it twice,” Sharon smiled, “but I do believe you’re on the naughty list.”

“Oh I am.” Brenda drawled, her voice dropping an octave. She started to move down Sharon’s body. “And allow me to show you exactly why I’m on the naughty list and why I should get everything I asked for...” 

Sharon lifted her hips and Brenda dragged the shorts down agonizingly slowly. Sharon was not a woman prone to begging but was seriously considering it when Brenda’s fingers ghosted up her thigh and made their first contact with her sensitive sex. 

Sharon whimpered. Brenda’s fingers teased the slick folds, skirting around the clit to Sharon’s dismay. Brenda dipped two fingers into the brunette and Sharon let her eyes flutter shut. Brenda’s fingers probed the brunette shallowly and Sharon started to squirm. 

Brenda lowered her lips to press a kiss to her inner thigh. Brenda's tongue made its first contact with Sharon's clit and Sharon gasped. Brenda drew tight circles around her clit as Sharon’s fingers slid into Brenda’s blonde waves. Brenda groaned as Sharon’s nails massaged her scalp, the hum buzzing through Sharon’s body. 

Brenda’s hair frizzed and ruffled as Sharon matched Brenda’s ministrations. The blonde hair was tangled around Sharon’s knuckles as Brenda’s tongue pressed harder against the clit and Brenda pushed her two fingers deeply into her girlfriend. 

Sharon squeezed her eyes shut, arched her back, curled her toes. “Brenda…” she pleaded, “Brenda!”

Brenda finally added the third finger thrusting the digits faster, curling against sensitive flesh with vigor. Sharon’s lips parted in a silent scream as her entire body tensed and clenched and she held her breath. 

There was nothing more pure or beautiful than Sharon Raydor on the brink of orgasm. Brenda held her there on the edge deliberately, Sharon’s taut muscles starting to tremble. 

Brenda flattened her tongue against the little bundle of nerves as Sharon’s fist tightened in Brenda’s hair and her orgasm pulsed through her body. Her muscles spasmed around the still thrusting fingers, her incoherent mumblings fading around breathy moans. 

When Sharon lifted her head she caught Brenda’s eyes. Brenda reached up and wiped away the glistening come from her lips and chin with a ravenous grin. 

After a short silence Sharon smiled a lopsided smirk. “Okay. Shetland or Welsh?” 

“Hmm?” 

“What kind of pony do you want?”


End file.
